


Quick Set by Lady Dagger

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has trouble with his wiring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick Set by Lady Dagger

Disclaimers: Not intended to infringe on Pet Fly or UPN, who own Jim, Blair and The Sentinel.  
  
Notes: This is dedicated to the gentleman who spent 20 minutes raking me over the coals for screwing up the wiring in his garage because his drill wouldn't work. After finally convincing him to check the drill in another outlet, he was certain that I had somehow managed to mess up the wiring in his house. After plugging a radio into the garage outlet, which did work, he grudgingly conceded that *perhaps* I hadn't screwed it up. Of course, no apologies were offered. Ah, well, what else can you expect from a man who doesn't know the difference between a drill and a jigsaw! 

##  Quick Set

by Lady  
Dagger

* * *

Blair woke slowly, easing naturally into wakefulness, becoming aware of the warmth of his pillow, snuggling into the body next to him, the sound of that beloved heartbeat beneath his head. Saturday morning, no classes, no station, no paperwork, no alarm clock. Just a lazy morning with his lover. It had been several weeks since they had this opportunity, but the Hendricks case was finally over. Bad guys caught. Justice served. All was right with the world, at least for now.  
  
"Mmm." Blair rubbed his morning-stubbled jaw across Jim's chest and gave the nearby nipple a good morning nuzzle. Jim was oblivious, too familiar with Blair's presence to wake up, and too tired to react.  
  
Blair rubbed his body hopefully against his Sentinel's and gave him a kiss. Although, Jim automatically returned the kiss, he still didn't stir and Blair didn't have the heart to actually force him to wake up. Jim obviously needed his sleep. "Damn, I might as well get up."  
  
Blair crawled out of bed and tucked the covers back in around Jim with a quick kiss on his forehead. He put on his robe and slippers, worn only because they were gifts from Jim. Given in fun, they appealed to his sense of the ridiculous. Not everyone had the natural style and panache to carry off thermal lined blue plaid flannel with fuzzy black panthers on their feet. He'd even named them: James and Jimmy. Jimmy was the mischievous one who insisted on playing hide and seek. James was far too dignified for this, although he did have a carefully hidden fondness for sliding across the floor when least expected.  
  
Morning rituals out of the way, Blair debated what to do about breakfast. Waffles were Jim's favorite and Blair hadn't had time to make them lately. He'd even bought a Mickey Mouse shaped one as a surprise. He pulled the waffle iron out of the back of the cupboard where he'd hidden it, set it on the counter and plugged it in.  
  
Nothing happened. Blair unplugged it and plugged it back in. Still nothing. He pulled the box out of the trash and read the instructions. "Of course!" He flipped the switch to turn it on (their old one didn't have a switch). Still nothing. Blair jiggled the cord in the outlet and jiggled the cord where it attached to the appliance. Still nothing. "Damn!" He'd really had his heart set on Mickey Mouse waffles this morning. Maybe...  
  
Blair dialed an old familiar number for the first time in quite a while. A sultry, feminine voice answered, "Senad Electric. How may I serve you?"  
  
"Why didn't you say things like that to me in the old days, LD?"  
  
"You didn't need encouragement, Blair. A leash maybe, but no encouragement. You still refusing to share that delicious hunk of law and order with a near and dear friend?"  
  
"You're not that dear! Listen, I have a problem."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?"  
  
"Hey, I'm not that bad. Am I?"  
  
"Of course not, Blair. You're a darling. Now what's your problem this morning?"  
  
"There's something wrong with the switch in the kitchen. I wanted to fix Jim waffles for breakfast, and I bought a brand new waffle iron and it won't work."  
  
"This is an emergency?"  
  
"To me."  
  
"Blair, honey, you realize this a weekend and it costs $75 just to have me show up on a Saturday morning, plus another $75 if takes more than 15 minutes to fix. Not that I'd charge you, of course, but just think of the money I'd be missing."  
  
"Damn, why aren't you rich?"  
  
"Expensive hobbies. Zines and internet access aren't cheap. Now, let's see if we can do this over the phone. Not to be insulting, but is the waffle iron turned on?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"You'd be amazed the number of times the answer to that question is no. Have you plugged it into another outlet to make sure it's not the waffle iron that's faulty?"  
  
"Hang on a sec... This outlet's dead too!"  
  
"Are you still in the kitchen, Blair?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Try an outlet in another room, those two may be on the same circuit."  
  
Blair carried his precious waffle iron and his cell phone into the living room. "Damn, what's wrong with this place? They can't all be dead!"  
  
"Blair, it's probably a faulty waffle iron. Try plugging in something you *know* works."  
  
Blair went into his office and grabbed his radio, bringing it out to the living room and plugging it into the same outlet he'd plugged the waffle iron into. "It must be the outlet. You'd better come over. None of these outlets work!"  
  
A sleep-roughened voice drifted down from the loft, "Flip the switch, Chief."  
  
"Oh, right, I forgot this one was switched." Blair walked across the room. "Thanks, Jim." He flipped the switch and the peaceful Saturday morning was shattered by sounds best left in the sound- proofed cellars of Seattle. He quickly flipped the switch back off. "Sorry, Jim."  
  
Blair retrieved the radio, carried it into the kitchen, and after turning the volume way down, tried it in the first kitchen outlet. Nothing. He tried it in the second outlet and was rewarded with the muted roar of modern, primitive man. "LD, the first kitchen outlet still doesn't work, but the second one does."  
  
"So, our final score is one dead outlet, one faulty waffle iron, and one switched plug. Got another waffle iron?"  
  
"The old one, but I wanted Mickey Mouse."  
  
"Ah, well, can't help you there. I don't waffle."  
  
"Cute, LD! What do you think is wrong with the outlet?"  
  
"More than likely, depending on when the wiring was last done, the outlet was quickset, meaning it was just snapped into place, without taking the time to wind the wires around the screws. Over time, the wires work their way loose and yet another poor soul must do without their morning waffle."  
  
"Could I fix it?"  
  
"Well... Maybe Jim could, but it would probably be better to just let me come over some evening and take a look. I've got a license, and my very own set of tools."  
  
"I'm insulted. Why do you think Jim can handle it, and I can't?"  
  
"Blair, don't be insulted. You're highly intelligent and I love you dearly, but sometimes you overlook the obvious. Jim's a cop and takes a more practical approach to life's little inconveniences. But, if either of you decide to check the outlet, turn the breaker off first."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Sometimes when you remove the outlet, the wires fall out of the back and touch. I've got a lovely screwdriver that had a chunk blown out of it, and you're both too pretty to be needlessly damaged."  
  
"So what's it gonna cost for you to come by and fix this?"  
  
"Pretty steep, one home cooked meal and a friendly hug or two. Give me a call when you and Jim have an evening free."  
  
Blair closed the connection and felt arms slide around him from behind, one hand slipping inside his robe and caressing his chest. He leaned back into the warmth of his mate and rubbed his cheek against Jim's chest.  
  
"So, Chief," Jim nibbled on Blair's neck, from robe collar to ear lobe, which he suckled. One steely arm around Blair's waist, while the one inside his robe, ventured downward, "what's for breakfast?"  
  
\--end-- 


End file.
